The blessed Meme - One Prophets Tale.

[Samwell]

The sun settles upon the skyline in the far off distance. Wave upon warm wave of water thrashes itself in a frenzied and frothy doom upon the beach of the island as if the titanic oceanic beast can sweep it away. The air itself stirs with a warm, nearly autumn breeze that carries with it salt, dough, and civilization as well as promises.

And promises is what this man comes to share with the citizenry of this land. He steps up to meadows, the proverbial crossroads of action, deceit and intrique. Dressed in his holy, red robe, he peers from out of the visor of his cast iron helmet, his face hidden from the world of Man as if to lock the very secrets themselves from those that do not deserve truth.

With book in hand, he stands tall, his brown locks falling past his shoulder as he begins his sermon:

"Come, one and all of you faithful to kinship and hospitality.  Tidings is what I bring. Listen to a man such as I as I bless you all and tell a tale about my God. My lord of Luck.

Do not turn away from my words, gentle listeners. You all have payed homage to this man before each and everytime you bring your coin to the slot machine stalls in the hopes of earning. You who fight the creatures of Light and Dark who have prayed silenty for a swift victory, or the chance to come home again to your loved ones when perils pile themselves upon you. Who has not forgotten the child, in his glorius innocent come upon a copper on the road and plucked it from its spot to treat himself to a sweet?"

His voice rises as the crowd of the common and extrodinary alike gather around, whether interested with the sermon of circumstance, or merely to ogle the man upon the proverbial box.

"I dare you all, who amongst you has not prayed for a favorable outcome when things appear stacked against you, and who here has not given thanks to the cosmic forces afterward? Dare not lay claim to not, for I shall call thee a heathen where he stands! For all at least once in their life have done so.

And who, you might be wandering, is responsible for such events? My God! My Lord! The King of the Fortune! The twisted Avatar of Cosmic balance, it is he who blesses those with heartfull intents upon their luck!

I ask you, I beseech thee gentle folk of business and hardened warriors of steel and magick, give a prayer, and a nod and recieve his blessings and know well enough that you are being looked after, and even some amongst you are being sought after. For it is in my Lord, that I believe.

Thank you for listening, and to those of you who wish to change his fortune, and become a master in their own right over their own destinies, come to me, and I shall pass around the holy scriptures of my order!"

And with that, he pats his gloved hand upon the satchel on his hip, a hidden smile that creases his lips. His work, and his quest, begins...

((For those of you interested, I shall be giving sermons such as these often or occasionally for several weeks. If your character is interested in obtaining a copy, PM Samwell Yaza through the game))

[Samwell]

http://bluelaguna.net/downloads/mp3s/xgost/26+-+Ship+of+Regret+and+Sleep.mp3

Background Music of course 

Organs play, intensified by magnitude only by the will of the man who weilds the power of composition and rhythm. The music, indeed, fills the room as it bounces forth from cold, dark granite, warming the walls with its eerie melody as a robed man sits idly in front of the peice. Letting his magic work their wonder and miracles as he contemplates the past weeks of his journey and of his destiny.

Ohhh how the people of the world have tooken to his blessings! How they, in their search for alliances before the battle itself draws nears, cling to the hopes of anyone who promises salvation and kindness in this maddening world, and how they throw themselves to the mercy of higher powers.

And rightfully so! Ohhh how he wants to help those in need. How he reaches out with his still warming hands to cup the cheek of humanity (and elfanity, and all rightful anities as well) within his firm grasp as he assures it of its survival in the coming times.

"Do not worry, my child. Salvation comes and draws near as my Lord and God shall come forth in due time".

Those were of his exact words  said to his newly converted Celeste. Ohhh how the girl showed promise.

With that, he lumbers his massive form from his seating, trailing his robes with a sweep amongst the clean grantite floor as he makes his way towards his alter. Dropping to his knee's, he prays to the one voice that he knows that listen.

"My lord. My Master. My God. Soon, the Kingdom that we seek shall come. Soon, we shall deliver upon our promises, and soon all shall be as it should be...."